Chronicle of the Children : Book Two
by LordVTP
Summary: To murder a world a trifle, to murder a dream blasphemous.
1. Default Chapter

Tennyson had set the study to order (after cleaning up the prior night's blood). Here were secrets beyond mortal limits, and lies for which there was no truth. As he dusted the covers and spines of the tomes, the sight of his own hand caught his eye. He found his own skin smooth and unfamiliar. Years uncounted, many millennia in the least had past since he had taken such a youthful appearance. When you felt old at heart a set of mottled bones feels justified. But not this day, not this life he thought to himself. We will live again as we once did, do little things as we once did. Try to do big things, as we once tried. Succeed again? No, he shook his head. He didn't think that likely. 'B.T ?' He turned his head and found Val standing at the door, complete with pajamas and toothpaste.

'You sure it's a good idea to go back there, having just been "killed" the other day?'

Val dismissed it all as minor detail, then left the room rubbing his eyes with only a "bite me" in reply. Tennyson chuckled, looked to an open volume upon the desk, seeing the pen and paper; raised his eyes to the heavens and said to no one in particular 'Let this be a good day'

The image of The Lord of Powers eating puffed cereal at a breakfast table caused brought Tennyson pause, before putting on an English muffin for himself.

A mere thirty minuets later they were both heading out the door when Val stopped in his tracks. Tennyson waited and looked back at Val. 'Ten, I don't intend to run into that brat on the way to school. So…I'm going to cheat a little.'

'Is that wise?'

'No...Not really, but who around here is going to notice?'

Tennyson grimaced a bit.

'Let's keep the "cheating" to a minimum ok?'

Val smirked.

'It's me right? I can take care of myself right?'

Tennyson turned on him and said in a solemn voice.

'That is precisely what worries me.'

Tennyson resumed his march, ambivalent but sure. He wouldn't try to stop him, not every minor infraction. Sometimes though, minor things have a way of adding up.

Valthalion turned a corner and walked down the alley where he had been shot. Inside his shirt pocket he kept a piece of charcoal, which he withdrew. In one continuous stroke, he drew a simple arched door on the alley wall. He then placed his palms upon it and closed his eyes. He pictured the rooftop the school, and saw there a door opening out of the small structure in which the stair led down. He reached out, and brought them together. Back in the alley, the area inside the charcoal glowed, and Val pushed through it like a membrane, stepping out onto the school rooftop. The light in the doorway faded but Val marked the spot with charcoal before he walked down to the classroom. What he failed to notice though, was the roof had another visitor at the time. Rei Ayanami emerged from an unseen corner, nearly shocked out of her wits.

Shinji and Asuka made it into the classroom just before the bell, took their seats and tried to regain their breaths. As things settled down and the school day began Shinji stole a glance at Rei. Whom he alone noticed was doing something unusual. She was staring at someone in the back of the class using the windows reflection. He lacked the energy to put more thought into it though. Today he was going to vegetate. Asuka's offer to play cards made a surprisingly active pastime

School went on, and so the teacher. The cicada sang, and the cock crooned. The day did drag, and in the space of those few hours' lifetimes ended in the virtual space of the children's laptops. Away from this sublime paradise of youth, Tennyson lacking any timely needs took it upon himself to go out and see the world.

Tennyson had also decided to 'cheat', his own modest restraint being only for the sake of sympathy. The powers of Tennyson were varied, but that ability closest to him was the method of the book. His means of controlling the dream skill passed down to him from Luxor in another life. From beneath his suit he withdrew a well traveled, fair bound book. He opened it with reverence, its blank pages reflecting warmly in the morning sun. Holding the book in his left hand and placing his right upon the open face, he brought to mind the image of a quill and began to pen his day. A light bright and pure sprang from its pages. Valley, pool and mountain's peak he visited. Skyrise, subway and urban sprawl he saw. Ocean floor, earthen cave, to moon's thirsty shore he stood on and took measure. Till he felt weariness upon him, and found himself reposing on a Tokyo-3 park bench. What a strange earth this one, he thought, so very different from his other life…so very, very long ago. He brought the tiny threads and flax of truth he saw, spun them together in his head and wove of them a tapestry.

_Grim and marrow_

_Death and sorrow _

_Heavens promise and hells debt _

_Layman's hope and masters plan_

_Shapeless spectacles _

_The errant hand_

_The chickens scratch_

_Imperfect man_

_These things are joined_

_This legacy is woven_

_Ageing men_

_Ragged crowns golden_

_A dry decay_

_Unmolded_

_This fleshless corpse _

Yes, thought Tennyson. They can answer for these…._things._

Let them pray need not answer to them at all. He stood, and walked towards the open market that had sprung up without even the slightest city planning (much to the chagrin and annoyance of the city council). Here, amid the myriad wives and salary men were the proffered goods of civilization. Fruits, fish and vegetables lined the walkways along with stereos, CDs and other assorted oddities you might not find on other worlds.

The hustle and bustle was heartfelt and good, along the ever changing river of aroma dancing from store to shop. Here he selected a lotus blossom, placed on his chest. Tasting, one by one, the vivid local colors brought a smile to his face. Made him look back towards a place where wine was treated with lead, and vestal virgins paraded the street. Yet that thought stopped him. That had not been a happy place…dripping with blood, disease and famine. Yet here was a new center for the world, only this time the barbarians had made it

Taking his time, he strolled into an open air lounge. The crowd was dressed somewhat nicely, more so gaudily… but the drinks were first rate, of that Tennyson was sure (his nose never led him astray). His perception of distilled spirits aged past any vintage. Of note was a rather magnificent black grand piano just sitting in a corner unattended. Nursing a whisky (at noon!) he walked over and sat down.

Slowly, one by one he teased the keys. Tap, tap, tapping. He played out a simple melody, working faster. Note and Ivory, lacquer and key storming, swept him up... A song swirled from his lips, and painted words. He sung from the heart, straight from the soul, formed of his mind; the maestro, artist, author.

'I'm going to fight this, know you…'

Tennyson's expression fell. Standing over him was a rather pleasant looking but insufficiently so to make up for the owners person, evening dress. 'Just what, pray tell, are you doing here Athena?' said Tennyson with not a small trace of annoyance. 'Isn't there some small corner of Pantheon you could be conspiring about?' Athena's dark eyes lit up with amusement.

'Oh, but I am, Pantheon is everywhere. "All that is" One-way or anther it all works out.'

Tennyson turned from her. 'You're absolutely hopeless you know. Tell me something? Just how deep _did_ you bury your humanity hmm? Just write me when you manage to dig it up.'

Now it was Athena's turn to get angry. 'Is humanity such a great thing? Look around you, look to the farthest watchtowers of this world. What's the difference of this place and hell? The shade of the sky, a touch of brimstone…a dash of sulfur?

'They suffer…and they suffer less for not having you in it… Why must you be a mote in Val's eye? One can only imagine what would happen if ever you took the chair. Not in my darkest verse or blackest dream could I delve such a pit.'

'Best hold your tongue scribe…both my memory and reach are long…and sharp.'

'Don't be insufferable, I'm hardly the ink stained man you once tossed along the forum floor. Oh I know you could take me except…You might have many servants, but I've far more friends. Keep that on your short attention span when you dare make threats.'

Athena kept Tennyson locked in their gaze, and sensed the conversation was turning dangerous. When all at once she realized they were alone…the bar had emptied.

'Tennyson, what in the world?' She asked as she looked around. To which he gave her a 'hell if I know' shrug. That was when they heard the sirens. In synchronous fashion they both looked up…and paused.

'It's falling?'

'It is falling.'

'On us?'

'On us.'

'Why?'

'Pardon?'

'…Why doesn't it just throw rocks?'

Tennyson, who a moment before was on the verge of losing his temper, had been reduced to exasperation.

'Are you a fucking retard!'

Athena, who a moment before was on the verge of losing her temper, had been reduced in status from goddess to preschool girl.

'Look here! Robert said something about…' Tennyson didn't let her finish.

'Dipping into the loonie jar have we been? Why do you assume, just because it's up in the sky it can grab boulders on the moon?'

Athena did her best impression of a pout.

'It doesn't seem so far from up there.'

'You simply …_must_… be shitting me Athena.'

They locked into another angry stare, though missing the feral tinge of the previous one.

'Well?'

'Well WHAT?'

'Aren't you going to stop it?'

'I don't have to.'

And that was when Unit-1 came flying by, nearly stepping on the two unreals.

It is said that the Lightbringer fell like lightning, well so the angel thought…imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. Still, he didn't quite have the heart to go through with it. He was oh so glad when those nice things came out to catch him. The silent 'wheeeee!' he had been braying had turned to a frightened squeal halfway down when he saw just how sharp and unforgiving Tokyo-3 looked. He had been trying rather desperately to slow himself down since, but (gravity being a pesky thing) hadn't succeeded. He was just about ready to give the purple one the biggest hug ever, but that was when he got something stuck in his eye.

_A child is forever…_

_ Forever and anon…_

_ In the shadow of the mind…_

_In the twilight of forever…_

_ We remember ourselves…_

_ Not as we are_

_ But as we were…_

_ Can you not see?_

_ The understanding of a child isn't weak…_

_ It is perfect._

Children have power, and the less they have forgotten themselves, the more power they have. It isn't an obvious power; it's a seldom used power. But an awesome power nonetheless. Sometimes the heavens call…and sometimes, we call the heavens.

Shinji, Asuka, and Rei are closer to the truth then they know. Far closer then the so called adults and powerbrokers of earth dare dread. They have already felt it in their dreams…the touch of the within without. They don't understand it, but their experiences with Eva had regained them a part of themselves lost to those of age. And is resonated, shivered with the plucking at the frayed borders of their world. The comings, the goings … the changing's. Something was going to happen, it was already happening. An event no fate can foretell, a prophesy ever unspoken. The convergence… the sundering. A conflict far eclipsing the one they knew was now on their doorstep. Invading their very thoughts. The pieces were assembling…and the eyes of The One Who Was Not, had turned their way. In their warm ramen induced sleep, they shivered.

'_**He knows….'**_

The words echoed in the bowels of the Pantheon, and they seemed to steal the light in their passing. Word was spreading, and the waiting had begun. They waited like terminal patients, in whom a cancer was growing unabated. When the time came, they would fight…and fight well. But none of their number knew what the outcome would be. For beings who believed they were absolute, nothing could be more distressing. On a thousand thousand planes, legions answered the call, and prepared for war.


	2. Chapter 2

The nature of this life, both endless and short, is perplexing. One can't help but wonder how much of what one sees is the truth. In the darker moments of our lives we grasp briefly that we truly have little control or any at all. So then, why are we? Why then, must we find our own reasons? An external answer is one option; we live for another or some other. The other is we live for ourselves and our own purposes. Neither is whole, both are complete.

Do you exist? Ask yourself seriously now! Come on, you can do it. Are you? Do you? How judge it to be so, how does one grade the experience? You might think "I am as real as this table I have my hand on." And then you would be right. Then realize as surely as you know, as you have been taught…there is so substance to said table. It doesn't exist; it is merely a vagary of light. Waveforms acting in a prescribed fashion, like moving pictures on a screen. This is your world, stop and take a look at it.

_Where are you in all this? _

It's not so easy is it, to seriously ask these questions. Nothing is so horrifying to the soul then to question ones existence, in a serious nature that is. For this reason, there is a measurable disconnect between what we intellectually know, and what we believe. It's all right for black holes but not for man. Quantum physics are wondrous to describe, but not in describing the flesh of your hand.

Before you accuse me of asking existential questions for which there can never be an answer, I_ say to you… Wrong! _I say man can comprehend the world around him. It is not beyond us anymore then counting stones. I say the first step in all this is to stop trying to grab a hold of those metaphorical moving pictures. Grasp the total unreality instead. The world is not solid. It is not carved in stone, brick or wood. We live in a shadow of light. All of this...All of our universe… Is a shadow stretched overlong. All of its gradients, all of its measure, relative only unto itself.

Suddenly, this endless, infinite universe doesn't seem quite so daunting does it?

The distance between galaxies? A relative thing. The mass of the sun? A relative thing. One value is as much as the other, so long as you have value.

What is the underlying truth of a relative thing? The truth and beauty of absolute relativity is that it allows for absolutely anything. There is _always_ a way, because there _must_ always be a way. Find the backdoor, and suddenly all things become possible.

We are those who have crossed that threshold. We are those who have fallen through realities cracks. It is we who have become sundered and are now lost, left to wander as shadows in the sun. We are the Unreal, this is our curse.

Gods, Demons, Titans…Whatever names you give us, they fail to describe. We are as varied as snowflakes, dissimilar in strengths. Yet we are no more perfect then you, we are the false Gods.

There is one among us who is not. One and only one do I name as such. One who came among us, but is not of us… the only true Unreal. The one known as the Lord of Powers... Valthalion Pallar.

In turmoil he came among us. For the unthinkable was upon Pantheon, the gathering place of we poor stragglers. No one foresaw the coming of the Shardlings, fragments of a consciousness far greater then our own. None could withstand them, and the undying found themselves faced with death.

When the ashes were cold and the dead counted, we had lost half our host. The halls had been stained red, and those among us who had yet the power sought order. Athena, called Goddess by many, tried to fill the power vacuum but failed. Her long machinations and blackmails availed her not as only Valthalion could defend them from further incursion.

The second assault was worse, or would have been, as the Shardlings spilled through gaping tears in the borders of Pantheon. Valthalion would not retreat. What he showed us then, and learned for himself there his connection to all the Shards.

He met, on those very doorsteps…Arimas, and the Shards were between them. Arimas had learned to impress his will onto shards he had gathered, prompting those not yet awakened into becoming his minions, and sending them forth to conquer.

The first meeting of Arimas and Val was well beyond cataclysmic. Pantheon itself was unscathed, yet the battle fought in the voids between worlds caused the total destruction of entire universes.

Long was that battle, longer then I will tell, they fought till at long last they realized the truth of themselves… or rather them self. They were both connected to whatever source their powers derived from, but that Arimas's power could only match those Valthalion himself put to use!

That was the end of Valthalion as prince among the false Gods. As the weight of the truth and guilt of those lost enveloped him, he set off alone into all that is; to deny Arimas any more power then he had so foolishly given to him. Bereft of the crutches of his seemingly endless powers, he was little more then a child. However, beyond enabling Arimas he had fear of one more thing.

In the airless blows of lifeless worlds, Valthalion started to fade. He began to pass out of space and time, his sense of self dangerously deteriorating. Had I had not found him in his self imposed isolation, he may well have succumbed to the only death he may know. Forever since the fear of fading away into the winds has haunted him.

I carried him to a world that knew not the Pantheon and nursed his mind back to health. Simply healing him would have been one thing, but soon guarding became more and more difficult. Arimas had sent forth legions to feel him out among the endless spidering realities. At length we moved far away enough from the prime realms that we no longer felt Arimas's breath down our necks. We have been in hiding of a sort ever since.

Now at long last I feel Arimas has caught our whiff, and soon this tragic world will be the new prime realm. A storm this world cant hope to contain is gathering in all directions, I feel it. I can only hope to contain the damage. Will there be anything left I wonder?

Asuka sat shivering in her entry plug. The angel of shadow had come, and Shinji was seemingly lost. No one had come up with a plan, a plan to save him. He was going to die and they were going to kill him. Frantic and silent she rubbed her shoulders, feeling the cold that she knew he must feel. Panic and rage and things long buried surfaced in her mind. A conversation, an exchange was about to take place whose consequences would range beyond the scope of dream.

It was all wrong, terribly terribly wrong. He was supposed to stay, to be at my side, ever at reach. Why did he get so full of himself? Why didn't I stop him? Put him in his place. Now he is lost in the black. Now I'll never see him again…

_Long in the shallows of your mind_

_Where do you drift?_

_Through the tide pools of memory_

_Along the shoals of time_

_Are you not here endless?_

_Against the tide._

Have I finally gone insane?

_Do you, dare you, seek my counsel?_

_Do you, dare you, seek my aid? _

_To call upon the tip of ones own terror…_

_Risk your mind and wet your blade? _

_I am the shadow of your mind…_

_I am the you that is not._

_Borne of the chance, dangerous and full. _

_For of you there is many, of I just one. _

_Awaken, oh child, heiress, and reign. _

Misato had never, not even with her father, felt such stark terror. Her plans shattered, her charge all but lost… and now Asuka walked plainly toward the edge of the shadow.

'Please no!' She screamed through the view screen in the control van, but Asuka kept walking. She screamed to halt the countdown, she screamed for section two as a dagger of ice shot through her heart…and on Asuka walked.

I am insane

I am insane

Broken at last

I am insane

_You are now whole!_

_We are one and the same._

_I am power by right yours._

_You may do anything._

Asuka Finally reached the very edge of the angel, and all became still. Misato was shrieking, running behind her fast. Yet even she became still. Fist clenched and eyes screaming, Asuka spoke her command 'Release him'

Earth and shadow cracked and split, the towers shook and heaven rent. Eva-1 was free again.

She looked to the angel, justice at hand, her tear only one and she spoke her command 'Now burn in your hell'

As if forced by a great hand, the angel enveloped itself, screaming against fate. It died as it began a shadow mote too small to light.

A half dozen people awoke from a nightmare. Only one understood that it wasn't.

A knock on the door.

Shinji stumbled out of bed to find Asuka at his door. He looked to her and she looked to him, nothing was spoken but much was said. Mere moments, an eternity, and ever so slowly, she held him in a hug. Then, even more slowly she went back to bed.

Valthalion awoke, clasping his heart. The drain, the drain he had felt! Something was very very wrong. The dream… was no dream. He steeled himself before his bedroom mirror and he knew… the shadow angel would no longer come.


End file.
